“You too. Holler if you need anything.” She retreated.
The bell above the door jingled. She glanced over and felt her breath catch again. Cole swaggered in, jeans hugging strong thighs, cowboy hat shading a perfectly chiseled face. She sighed aloud.
Cole nodded at the counter regulars and threaded his way to a booth, where a lanky man slid out to shake his hand. They settled in like men continuinga conversation started somewhere else.
Lanie materialized at Aftyn’s elbow. “Want me to grab Cole? I can handle the coffee refills if you need to stay at the counter.”
Aftyn smiled. “I got Cole. You get the coffee.”
Lanie laughed. “I just thought you’d want to linger up there. What red-blooded woman wouldn’t?”
Aftyn winked. “You’re right, but there’s nothing wrong with looking at Cole either. Thanks, Lanie.” She turned, smoothing her apron, and made her way to the booth in the corner.
****
Cole watched Aftyn stroll toward him, red ponytail swinging with each step, and his heart thudded against his ribs like a trapped animal. She was a beautiful woman in her faded jeans and blue T-shirt. She wasn’t sticking around, he knew that much. Chuck at the garage had told her it would be at least three weeks before he could even get to her vehicle. But maybe Cole could get to know her while she was here, and when it was time for her to leave, they’d part with good memories. No strings. Just something warm to hold onto.
He mentally shook his head. She probably wasn’t the type for that. But damn, he couldn’t stop thinking about the curve of her lips when she smiled.
“Will you be able to take another horse in, Cole?” Cliff’s weathered voice broke through his thoughts.
“I have one giving me a rough time right now, but if you’re not in a hurry, bring him by.”
“No hurry at all. I just think this horse could be a champion. You know how some of them have that instinct. Born with it.”
“I agree. Whenever you’re ready.” Cole grinned.
“Good morning, gentlemen. What can I get you?” Aftyn filled Cole’s mug with steaming coffee and topped off Cliff’s, the rich aroma drifting between them.
“Good morning, Aftyn. How’s it going?” Cole asked.
“I’ll let you know when I can feel my feet again.” She shifted her weight with a sigh, and both men grinned.
“Been a while since waitressing?” Cliff asked, leaning back against the worn booth, the morning light catching the silver in his stubble.
“About seventeen years.” She flexed her arches. “It all came back though. The rhythm of orders, the clink of dishes, and of course the sore feet.” A rueful smile crinkled the corners of her eyes.
Cliff extended his hand, polished wristwatch glinting.
“Aftyn, this is Cliff Hamilton. Cliff, Aftyn Hutchins.”
She took his hand, her grip firm and confident.
“Ma’am, it’s a pleasure,” Cliff said, voice warm.
“You too.”
Cole wrapped both hands around his coffee mug and watched Aftyn as she laughed at something Cliff said. The familiar ache of longing knotted in his chest. What could it hurt to spend some time with her? She’d leave and he’d move on.
They placed their orders, and Aftyn nodded. “I’ll be right back with those.” She turned and wove her way through the tables, apron swishing against her hips, and pinned the order to the wheel behind the counter before ringing the bell for Owen.
Cole watched her retreating figure, the soft sway of her hips under the fluorescent lights, then turnedback to find Cliff grinning at him.
“What?” Cole asked.
“She’s very pretty,” Cliff said, brows raised.
“Yeah,” Cole replied flatly.
